


Butterscotch

by caras_galadhon (Galadriel)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Food, Food Kink, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-06
Updated: 2007-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-14 08:19:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galadriel/pseuds/caras_galadhon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Viggo never really cared for butterscotch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butterscotch

**Author's Note:**

> For Halloween, I wrote ficlets for people who "knocked" on my virtual!door. (Final total: 12.) [](http://helena-s-renn.livejournal.com/profile)[**helena_s_renn**](http://helena-s-renn.livejournal.com/), my eleventh visitor, said she preferred a 'treat' to a 'trick'. Originally posted [in the thread available here](http://caras-galadhon.livejournal.com/344496.html?thread=2651312#t2651312), this is a slightly tweaked version.

Viggo was not a fan of butterscotch. He hated the thick, cloying taste, the way it clung to his tongue, coating his throat, setting his teeth on edge. It was invariably oversweet, no matter if it was in chip, sauce, square or swirl form, and Viggo'd had all forms forced on him at one time or another.

And so it took an inhuman effort of will for Viggo to suppress the shudder that threatened to run through him when Sean announced that the only foodstuff suitable for their purposes was the butterscotch ice cream topping he'd found in the back of the fridge. Almost immediately, Viggo felt his mouth filling with saliva, a Pavlovian indication of the retching he was sure was to come.

But there was Sean, bottle in hand, naked as a jaybird (with socks on), expression almost as hopeful as his hard, curving cock, and Viggo knew there was no way he could say no. He'd simply have to buck up and suck it up; rather literally, too.

Yet now that his tongue was chasing rivulets of still-warm butterscotch over the curve of Sean's hip, into the furrow between thigh and cock, Viggo had to admit it had a certain charm, especially when mixed with the dark, heavy musk of Sean; salt to balance out sweet, the slick-smooth slide down his throat a welcome sensation, the lingering flavour full and favourable.

_Yes,_ Viggo thought, swiping his tongue over the head of Sean's cock, savouring the bitter tang underlying the molten sugar, _I could get used to butterscotch, so long as it always comes with a hearty helping of Sean._

But next time, it'd be chocolate sauce for sure.


End file.
